


Where We Come From, Where We Go

by Onyxai



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Slight Canon Divergence, Tales From The SMP, Web Series: Tales from the SMP, it's only a very small allusion to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29672613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyxai/pseuds/Onyxai
Summary: An origin story of Sir Billiam III and Ranbutler after Ranboo revealed that his butler character from The Masquerade might have been the missing orphan from The Wild West.Premise of this story was inspired by @Hiizuki_ on Twitter
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sir Billiam & Ranbutler, Sir Billiam III & Ranbutler
Comments: 7
Kudos: 161





	Where We Come From, Where We Go

**Author's Note:**

> The tweet that inspired this story :)  
> https://twitter.com/hiizuki_/status/1361846641385345025?s=20
> 
> Also a huge thank you to Jasperowo & lavulin98 for beta reading this!
> 
> This is my very first story on this website, so hopefully I did things right! As well as my first story for the whole Dream SMP/Tales from the SMP fandom  
> I really hope you like it!

The boy’s arms were shaking so bad that he could’ve sworn the person singing could barely read them. He just wanted to drop them and go lay down, his knees aching from standing too long, but last time he did so he was given only a single piece of bread to eat for the day by the saloon owner. John John seemed like a mellow enough man, but with the influx of money recently and large number of customers, he could get vicious if he got any complaints.

  
The man on stage finally finished his song and the boy got the break he needed. He put the cards down, waiting for the next request so he could go into the back and grab the matching collection. He calls them cards, but they’re more like posters and were half the size of the poor kid’s body. The boy gripped one of his arms, trying to will the shaking to go away before he was approached by the next customer and he looked up at him, smiling.

  
“Do you know which song you would like sir?” The man smiled down at him, small tusks protruding from his bottom lip. The man had long pink hair tied up in ponytail and he wore what the boy would call simple traveller’s clothes. They were quite common in a western style town like this, so the boy didn’t think much of it. The man crouched down to the boy’s height, smile still present on his face. The boy took half a step back, not used to people wanting to be in his space, before stopping himself since that could be considered rude.

  
“How would you feel about escaping this place for a better life?” The man was whispering and the question was so sudden the boy thought he was hearing things at first.

  
“Huh… what, sir?” The man placed a hand on his head, ruffling the dark brown mess that was his hair.

  
“This place doesn’t seem to be treating you very well, so I was wondering if you would like to leave and find a better place to live? I could help you with that, but you’ll need to help me with a little something in return.” The boy was wary. This was a random stranger promising him something that sounded too good to be true, but as he looked past him at the annoyed looks on the customers faces and was reminded of the painful shaking in his arms, he wanted to take a chance.

  
“O-okay… yes. Yes, I would like to. And I’ll help you.” The man ruffled his hair once again before standing up and walking away. The boy watched confused before the man stopped and looked back at him, flicking his head to follow. The boy was just about to walk away, but the angry clearing of a throat tore the brunette’s attention back in front of him.

  
“What’s the point of walking up if you’re not going to sing…” The customer complained to himself before looking down at the boy. “’M doing the same song, keep the cards.” The boy resisted a sigh before forcing a smile up at the man.

  
“Pardon me sir, could you possibly wait just a few minutes? I need to go use the loo and would hate to not be able to hold the cards properly for you.” The man grumbled some annoyances but went to sit back down, nonetheless. Thanking the stars that he was able to escape he ran through the archway into the main area, looking around for the pink-haired man. He didn’t spot him immediately but the saloon owner, John John, did.

  
“What exactly are you doing out here boy? The karaoke cards ain’t gonna hold themselves.” The boy swallowed, looking down and shuffled his feet together.

  
“I needed to go to use the loo badly. Is that alright? I won’t be longer than a minute.” John John was silent for a moment, staring down at the kid.

  
“You better do it quick. Customers come first and I don’t want you messing that up for me.” The boy nodded quickly before taking off through the front of the saloon. He rounded the corner, pretending to run towards the outhouse before one of his arms were grabbed. He was going to shout but a soft ‘shh’ from the person made him clamp his mouth shut.

  
“My apologies for being so rough. The sheriff was out and about and I would rather not have my face be seen. Are you ready to help me out?” The boy looked up to see the pink-haired man and he nodded in response. “Good, good, first eat. You’re going to need the energy. Sadly, I only have this one loaf of bread, but after today we’ll be eating like kings.” The boy, starving after not getting his rations for the day yet chose to ignore the possibly sinister undertones in the man’s words, gratefully accepting the loaf of bread.

  
“Will you not eat?” The boy asked, not wanting to take all of the man’s food. The man patted his head again, and the action was slowly growing on the kid.

  
“I already ate so knock yourself out.” The boy didn’t wait any longer before ripping into the bread like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He had, to be fair, but he often had to ration himself and would store extras for when he got hungry at night. He had never just sat and ate an entire loaf before. It took little time before he had scarfed the whole thing down and had eagerly licked up all the crumbs that stuck to the edges of his mouth.

  
“Now that you’re full of energy, put this on.” The man handed him a mask that was definitely too big for his face, but he pulled the strap around his head best he could.

  
“What is this for?” The boy asked innocently, and the man grinned like a wolf down at him, placing his own mask over his face.

  
“So you aren’t as recognisable when we rob the bank.”

* * *

The boy thought the man, whose name is Billiam as he had learned, was absolutely insane when he proposed robbing the bank. Certainly, as the place that held all the money in the town, it would be very difficult to get into, but the boy quickly learned that was not the case. The people in this town seemed to be a little more on the stupid side, the boy had thought at the time. Now he was running side by side with Billiam, carrying bags full of gold and coins, laughing as the wind messed up his brown hair further. After Billiam was sure they had gotten far enough away from the town, he told the boy to rest. He gratefully flopped underneath an acacia tree, the bags of gold dropping heavily next to him.

  
“Keep an eye on the surrounding area, I’m going to go look for some water.” Billiam stated before walking off into the savannah. The sun was going to set soon, and the boy was beginning to worry about where they were going to hide from the horrors of the night. He had been woken one too many times by zombies trying to bash down the door of the saloon to feel anywhere near safe as night approached. He watched the horizon turn from blue to purple to pink to orange quicker than he liked before Billiam finally returned.

  
“There’s an underground pocket of water just around the side of the mountain. If we leave now we’ll make it just after dark.” Billiam had grabbed his portion of gold bags while speaking, the boy following suit by grabbing his own. Just as Billiam said, they reached the water pool just after the moon had risen and were, luckily, able to avoid the prying eyes of any monsters that had spawned.

  
“Wade through to the back and we’ll mine out a small hole for us to stay the night in.” The boy obeyed, following after Billiam, soaking himself up to his waist with how deep the water got in parts. Billiam set his bags down onto a nearby patch of dry stone before equipping an iron pickaxe and beginning to dig out the stone. The boy set his gold bags with Billiam’s before walking over, hoping to help.

  
“Do you know how to use a pickaxe?” The boy nodded.

  
“I used to work in the mines when I was younger before the saloon opened and Mr. John took me in.” Billiam responded by handing the kid a stone pickaxe and together they cleared out a nicely sized area rather quickly. After they had done so they moved the stolen gold further away from the water before finally settling down for the night.

  
“You never told me your name kid.” Billiam spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. The boy hesitated for a moment before responding.

  
“I don’t have a name… Was never given one at least, or maybe I forgot it. No one in that town really cares to deal with orphans except for manual labour.” The boy held no emotion in his voice as he said that; it was just a fact. Billiam thought for a moment.

  
“Would you like a name? It’s a lot easier than calling you ‘kid’ or ‘boy’ all the time.” It was now the boy’s turn to think. He had never considered having a name, not even giving himself one. It was strange to think about, but the longer he did, the more excited he got about having a real identity.

  
“I think I would like one, yes!” Billiam rested against the stone wall, hand on his chin while he sat deep in thought. It was quiet only for a few moments before he snapped his fingers and grinned over at the boy.

* * *

“Ran, this way! I think I’ve found something interesting.” With a heavy sigh, the boy looked up at Billiam, his saviour and close friend, before hiking up the hill to meet him. He was still adjusting to the ridiculous name that he was given. Billiam had laughed so hard he hit his head on the stone walls and gave himself a headache. “Ranbutler!” He had shouted, as if he had discovered a new redstone configuration. His bright eyes had contrasted the boy’s dim ones, full of disappointment and exasperation.

  
“Really? Ranbutler?” He had asked, followed by a deep sigh. Billiam cackled once again, and it took several minutes for him to calm himself.

  
“Oh, come on it’s funny!” The boy regarded him with a blank stare.

  
“Aren’t names supposed to be special? Like, an easy identifier for everyone to call you by?”

  
“Well, yeah, but have you heard the names of the town you came from? Hell, the man you worked for was literally named John John. I think your name fits right in, now.” Well, the boy, now Ranbutler, couldn’t exactly argue with that.

  
“Well, Ran, what do you think of that?” Billiam pointed down at a ruined structure in the distance, just peeking above a clearing in the spruce tree forest. They had been travelling together for close to 6 months now, lugging the gold as they went. It was annoying at first, but Ran’s pretty sure he’s built quite a bit of muscle due to it. Billiam had also been teaching him how to read, write and other miscellaneous things as they travelled around. Ran never said it aloud but he was grateful for it.

  
“A ruined structure of some type. It almost looks like the same materials as the ones in the ocean, but it’s hard to tell from this far. Do you want to take a look?” Billiam nodded, the curiosity gleaming in his eyes at the prospect of finding something new. Ran was just as excited, if he was being honest, the travelling life had been growing on him quickly and Billiam’s enthusiasm helped get him hyped for even the smallest of things.

  
Carefully scaling down the hill and brushing through the trees, the pair entered the clearing, the ruins looking surprisingly small compared to what Ran thought they would have been. It was quite rundown, bits and pieces of the stone bricks crumbling away before their very eyes. There seemed to be what was once a doorway, whatever wood that once made it up had long rotted away. Stepping through, Ran dusted away some of the debris that fell in his hair, sticking close by Billiam who had equipped his iron sword before entering. Inside looked like a larger scale of the prison back in Ran’s hometown. Each wall had several small cells, blocked off by iron bars with vines and moss crawling down them.

  
As the pair continued forward their attention was immediately drawn by the soft red glow at the back of the room. Stepping closer as Billiam cut some of the vines hanging from the ceiling away, they were able to get a better look at what was emitting the strange glow. In front of them sat a large, red, egg-shaped object. Small, red-coloured vines were stretching across the floor away from it, slowly corrupting the ground itself. It seemed to pulse with life, a pure energy radiating off of it that drew them closer.

  
“What do you think it is, sir?” Ran asked, eyes never moving away from the egg.

  
“I’m not sure. But it is certainly captivating in a way, isn’t it?” Ran couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “I’m going to go ahead and check out its surface. Would you check around the back?” Following the instructions given to him, Ran carefully stepped over the red vines, trying to not trip over them as he squeezed himself behind the egg. He felt along the walls, checking for any secret mechanisms or hidden passageways. After a few good minutes of thorough checking, Ran could confidently say that the wall was a dead end.

  
“Ranbutler, could you come over here?” Ran jumped in his skin, having gotten used to the quiet of the ruin. It wasn’t often that Billiam called him by his full name, and the slight change in his tone was setting the boy on edge.

  
“What is it, sir?” He asked, coming back around the front of the egg. Billiam had a hand resting on it and was smiling down at the boy, though Ran could feel none of the usual warmth behind it. As he looked closer, he could have sworn that Billiam’s veins pulsed red for a second, but with a quick blink and it was back to normal.

  
“What’s your opinion on the Egg so far?” There was an emotion in that question that Ran couldn’t quite place, but it made him instinctively take half a step back from his caretaker.

  
“It’s… interesting. Certainly not something I’ve ever seen before. What about you, sir?” Billiam’s smile widened to an almost painful degree at that, and he looked back up at the egg.

  
“I quite like it. In fact, I would say that I love the Egg.” Billiam’s eyes flashed red, or maybe that was just a trick of the light, the boy wasn’t sure anymore. “How about you come touch the Egg? I think you’ll like it as well.” Ran did not think he would like the egg. Not with how it had suddenly changed his friend so much in a matter of mere minutes. He began to back away slightly, but the harsh grip of Billiam’s hand on his wrist forced him to stop.

  
“Touch the Egg, Ranbutler.” He spoke harshly, anger lacing his every word with a fierce bite. He dragged the boy forward, a sharp pain shooting up Ran’s shoulder from the harsh action. His hand made contact with the egg, and suddenly a strange voice filled his head. He couldn’t understand what it was saying, but he could understand the intent. It was whispering sweet nothings, promises to give Ran everything and anything that he wanted, all he had to do was help out the Egg a little in return. It was so enticing to the young boy, who had been living in mere poverty not that long ago. The boy wanted to resist initially, not liking how it had changed his friend, but the thoughts of living a perfect, comfortable life with his friend by his side… it was too much for him. He gladly accepted the Egg’s promises.

  
“I see what you mean now, sir. The Egg is wonderful.” Billiam grinned down at him, finally releasing Ran’s wrist from his iron grip.

  
“I think I would like to renovate around this structure, in order to protect the Egg. Would you help me with that?” Ran happily nodded his head, excited for the future of fulfilled promises.

* * *

Ranbutler opened the door for the first guest of the day, bowing as he stepped to the side as Sir Billiam stepped down from the grand staircase. The man was wearing a crisp black suit, designed like a military uniform. His long pink-hair had been tied up elegantly into a bun, no longer sporting the messy ponytail he had worn during his travelling days. He didn’t need to move around anymore after all. Everything he had ever wanted was right here in his luxurious mansion.

  
“Butler! Go fetch my guest and I some wine, and then stay out of sight!” Ranbutler gave a quick bow before disappearing, never uttering a single word. He never needed to anymore. Him and Sir Billiam had been playing this game for a while now and knew exactly what to do. Tonight would be one of fun and games, laughter and jokes at the expense of the poor, only to lure them into a false sense of security for the real games to begin when the lights went out. Ranbutler smiled to himself as he filled two wine glasses, double checking in his mind where he had hidden his sword.

  
After all, his job would be up as soon as all the guests had arrived. He could feel that the Egg was growing hungry, and they couldn’t leave it unsatisfied forever. There would be hell to pay, something that they had learned the hard way.

  
“No matter,” Ranbutler thought to himself, eyes flashing red, “we shall soon all get what we wish for.”

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope you enjoyed my take on their history together! Let me know what you think of it in the comments if you like! I'm always willing to take constructive criticism and the like. I'm thinking about writing some more for the DreamSMP and/or Tales from the SMP, so look forward to that if you liked this :)


End file.
